


The Hot Box

by loftyperch



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Slash, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loftyperch/pseuds/loftyperch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mission called for subtlety, nuance ... grace. </p>
<p>Too bad they sent Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly I'm better at starting stories than I am at finishing them. But I can't help it, and you should respect my addiction.
> 
> I own none of the characters depicted below (except for the clicheed Eurotrash ~~Bond~~ villain we'll meet later on). I will not profit from their use.

Tony Stark was nervous. And why shouldn't he be? He was about to turn his whole life upside down and probably ruin a perfectly good friendship in the bargain.

He had chosen his favorite linen suit and crimson shirt, a little out of season, but he would have worn a day glo velour jogging suit if he'd thought it could inject a little normalcy into this crazy evening.

Across the limo, Steve sat fidgeting in a too-tight blue tee that rode up his abs and well-worn jeans that found all of his curves and hugged each one lovingly.

"How do I look?" the soldier asked, sincerely curious, checking his gelled hair in the tinted windows.

Any number of inappropriately accurate adjectives leapt to mind - lucious and fuckable foremost among them - but Tony simply said, "Fine," and looked away as if he hadn't just been staring. "Doesn't this bother you?"

"Not really."

The limo slowed and stopped, vibrating with the pulse of a distant bassline.

"Even though everyone inside is going to know exactly who we are and our faces are going to be plastered all over the internet before we can say 'please put that cell phone down?' There might even be reporters by the time we come out."

"You shouldn't care what anyone thinks."

Obviously Steve still hadn't grasped the finality of what they were about to do, and unfortunately there was no time to explain it to him again. They had reached their destination right on schedule, and SHIELD would have no problem finding new and horrible ways to punish them if they screwed this up by being late.

So instead of lecturing the painfully idealistic young man about the shitstorm they were about to unleash, Tony pretended to be somewhere else - somewhere tropical - and let Steve enjoy whatever it was about this mission he found so perversely enjoyable.

And before he knew it, the point of no return had been reached. Happy opened the door, and the gathered crowd was already peering inside, eager to see who had shown up to The Hot Box with such pomp. 

It was almost a relief to know that events were now beyond his control. All he had to do for the rest of the night was be his charming public self. The hardest part was already over.

It was simultaneously the easiest and the toughest mission SHIELD had ever given him: provide a distraction while Widow and Hawkeye steal some data off a harddrive ... by telling the world he and Steve were a couple.

He'd argued. Oh boy, had he argued. But the plan was sound, and Steve strangely had absolutely no objections, openly siding with Fury. In the end he was overruled and wisely gave in before he was accused of throwing a tantrum. Though he was still having Pepper draw up a lawsuit demanding compensation for any government contracts this little stunt might lose him (those conservative politicians didn't give a rat's ass if you wer gay, they just cared if you come out of the closet).

Their target, Federico Scorze, was little more than a common drug runner, but he dabbled in weapons and under-the-table, hard-to-find computer components and lab equipment. He'd even weaseled his way out of a plutonium smuggling charge in 2007. Most of his customers were small fry, black hat hackers and Chinese and Russian mafiosos ... but Fury suspected his biggest customer was AIM.

Scorze was careful to the point of paranoia. He kept all the information SHIELD wanted on a thumb drive which he carried on his person at all times. It would have been simple enough to arrest him and seize it, but Fury wanted - quite prudently - to keep AIM in the dark as long as possible.

Luckily for everyone but Tony, Scorze owned the classiest gay club on Manhatten and never failed to personally greet every celebrity who passed through, leaving the thumb drive unguarded in his officer computer for a few precious minutes. And Fury irrefutably pointed out that Tony and Steve were by far the biggest celebrities on the SHIELD payroll.

At Tony's suggestion there was a short-lived, half-hearted attempt to find an actual gay celebrity willing to put himself in danger for the good of his country. But soon everyone balked at dragging a civilian into harm's way, and that little plan withered on the vine. Besides, there was no one on the list nearly as famous as Tony.

So here he was, climbing out of the car after Steve to a chorus of gasps, a thicket of pointing fingers and the rustle of a hundred men and women digging for their phones. He set his face in a big smile and slipped just out of reach when Steve tried to put an arm around his waist. If they kept their distance, Tony might still be able to deny this afterward, if not to the media, then at least to himself.

They bypassed the line and allowed a bouncer to show them in. They followed the broad beast of a man - an undercover SHIELD agent - up a flight of metal stairs to a private booth overlooking the dancefloor.

"I'll let Mr. Scorze know you're here, he'll want to meet you. Some complimentary champagne, gentelmen?"

Tony's 'no' was drowned out by Steve's emphatic 'yes,please.'

This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance.

"Do you think we have time for a dance?" Steve asked as they awaited their champagne and their mark, his voice carrying over the pumping disco from the speakers below.

"No."

"I love this song."

"No."

"Aw come on, Tony, lighten up. People are gonna think we're fighting."

"I thought I shouldn't care what people think." Tony hadn't looked Steve in the eye once since they'd gotten the assignment, and he wasn't about to start now, preferring to glare at the handsome young waiters flirting with nearby patrons.

"Can we at least stay for the drag show? I heard it's very tasteful here."

Tony could practically _feel_ Steve's aren't-I-so-innocent smile like a white hot brand of guilt and frustration on the back of his neck.

"Sure, whatever. Let's stay all night." Maybe if they never left the club they'd never have to face the real world again.

"Don't be sarcastic. Just enjoy yourself. Our first date should be special."

And for just a split second, Tony let himself believe that Steve meant it, that Steve didn't think this was all some fun little improv exercise or a mission ... that he and Steve were really on a date. 

He almost felt bad for being such a grouch, but come on, Fury had dangled the world's tastiest creampuff in front of him and would yank it away as soon as the data had been stolen! He had every right to be a little misanthropic.

Steve, suddenly serious, reached out and took his hand, gripped hard when Tony tried to snatch it back, stared with a silent demand until Tony finally met his eye.

Those eyes were so earnest and wounded - so _blue_ \- that it made Tony gulp.

"This really is my very first date. With _anyone_ ... Please, Tony, show me a good time."

"I ..."

"Dance with me."

And Tony didn't have the strength to say 'no,' allowing himself to be led, stunned, downstairs to the floor - tried not to laugh too fondly at Steve's unique, guileless interpretation of modern dance.

_This is baaaaad_ he wailed internally as he let his hips find the beat and his hands find Steve's lean waist. _Curse you, Cher!_

Steve pulled him closer, so close Tony could smell his cologne. It was nothing special - probably came out of a can - but it unnerved him, yanked him right back to reality ... it was a _young_ man's cologne, the scent of a freshmen at a frat party, and it made Tony feel dirty in all the wrong ways.

He was grateful when the song ended and they were returning to their table, Steve's arm draped around his shoulders. Their champagne and their host were waiting for them.

He was a short man, impeccably dressed, in his fifties and graying handsomely. His face, smooth and dark, was open and smiling.

"Mr. Stark, Mr. Rogers, welcome to the Hot Box," Scorze greeted them with a thick Sicilian accent as they sat, shaking each of their hands warmly. "I am a big fan of your work, and so is my Dario. He talks about you all the time."

"Dario?" Tony asked, primed ahead of time to begin a long, involved conversation, and genuinely curious about Scorze's lover. "Not Dario Magnani?" He had, of course, been briefed on all the pertinent facts, but he was well practiced at feigning surprise.

"Indeed, Mr. Stark."

"I love his work." That much was true. "I've got five of his suits in my closet as we speak." That was true, too, though he didn't mention the wool coat, the three shirts or the spectacular fedora - he didn't want to lay it on _too_ thick.

"Then you simply must stay for the show. He's premiering a piece this evening, to celebrate his new assignment. He'll be costuming a period piece for Kenneth Branagh."

Perhaps this night wouldn't be so bad, after all. Scorze seemed like wonderful company, and Steve was keeping his hands to himself and letting Tony take the lead. _Deferring to his elders_ Tony's treacherous mind supplied.

"But enough about Dario, he gets enough attention. I must thank you, on behalf of my business and employees for choosing this place to make your love known to the world."

Steve wisely chose that moment to jump in, keenly aware of Tony's hesitation.

"Thank _you_ for having us."

The arm came back, and with it that scent of youth.

This really _was_ going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued


End file.
